


My Life With You

by orangeCrates



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeCrates/pseuds/orangeCrates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik finds a kitten in an alley in Jerusalem's poor district. He didn't mean to keep it, not really, but sometimes, a cat adopts the person as much as it happens the other way around.</p><p>Also, she's a cat, and everyone knows cats have a tendency to just do what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Life With You

**Author's Note:**

> The cat in this story is a silver Abyssinian, one that leans more towards being white. Because Abyssinians really are assassin cats. Apparently they can even wall jump.
> 
> Previously titled 'My Life with Cat' but after sleeping on it I decided I hated that title.

_My world was so cold until you came into it._

Kadar had found an abandoned kitten in the village once.

It had been black and small enough that it still fit easily in the arms of a small child of six. Malik remembers being more concerned for the scratch on his brother's hand.

They hadn't been able to keep it because pets are frowned upon within the fortress and, at any rate, he reminded his brother, they do not have the time to take care of a kitten, let alone one so young. They have their own lessons, after all and, one day, when they are assassins they will be away from the city often and then who would take care of the poor creature?

They returned to the fortress late that day as they walked from house to house looking for someone who would take the kitten in.

Because Malik was not so cruel that he would leave the thing to fend for itself, and because Kadar had looked at him with sad eyes when he realized that Malik would not budge on this.

_"We cannot just leave him!"_

Those days seem like a lifetime ago but, his brother's words come back to him like it was yesterday as he stared at the tiny creature huddled in the alley, shivering and wet from being out in the rain earlier.

Malik could not even say for sure what colour the cat was since it was covered in dirt and mud, but its eyes were a bright green when they lock on to him and it let out a plaintative 'mew'.

Malik brings the thing back to the bureau with him.

Because he never could deny his brother anything, not even when he was but a memory.

Besides, he was no longer an assassin.

 

_I'm actually afraid of being lonely._

Malik did not mind adding more to the list of things he had to do in the bureau, even if it were menial things. He's still hoping that one day, he will tire himself out so much that he will go to sleep and no longer dream of that wretched day in Solomon's Temple, will no longer wake up with Kadar's name coming from his mouth as a scream and phantom pain where his arm used to be.

It has not managed to work yet, but at least when he wakes up this time he only makes a strangled sound, followed by an indignant yowl that was distinctly feline and did not come from Malik.

Malik looked down and two bright green eyes looked back. Malik had spent the better part of the last two nights trying to teach the stupid thing to sleep in the basket he provided for it in the main area of the bureau. He'd thought he'd succeeded when it stayed there last night.

Apparently not.

The hand he had over his left shoulder was shaking and Malik clenched it tightly as if ordering it to _stop_.

"This is not your bed." He said, trying to sound sharp, but the edge wasn't there. He was too tired. The kitten, who he realized after washing it, was actually almost white with a fine dusting of dark grey all along her back and on her head, moved forward to butt her head against his stomach and mewled as if it would change his mind.

It didn't, not in the least, but another night of watching his brother die had taken all the fight out of him. So he snorted and said gracelessly.

"Do what you want." Since, apparently, that was what it meant to do regardless of what he wanted.

He fell back onto the bed and threw his arm over his eyes and tried to push the nightmare from his mind, if only so he could attempt to get some sleep tonight.

After a moment, the weight on his stomach left and Malik wondered idly if the cat was going to go back to its basket _now_ just to be contrary. He wouldn't put it past it at this point.

Then he tensed when he felt a slight warm weight settle in the space between the stump of his left arm and his side. It shifted a bit before settling down.

After a long moment, Malik took his arm away and craned his neck to stare at the tiny creature curled with its head tucked on top of Malik's shoulder. He had half a mind to dislodge it, but in the end, Malik just left it there and tried to go back to sleep.

He did not dream after that.

 

_Will you tell me about your day?_

Malik was always under the impression that cats were independent and solitary creatures. Above all, he was under the impression that they were quiet.

He wasn't sure about independent, but the kitten he's picked up certainly didn't like being left alone, always following on Malik's heel and, whenever he stops, rubbing itself against his ankles and twining between his feet and getting underfoot like the pest that it was.

And it figures that he would pick up the one cat that wouldn't shut up.

Whenever it caught sight of something, it would turn back to Malik and start mewing as if it were reporting to Malik what it saw. It did it when it was sitting on the counter, watching Malik drawing his maps as if trying to contribute something instead of just getting in the way. 

And it did it when an assassin would drop into the bureau as if to say, _someone is here! I think they're here to see you!_

When Malik realized he'd begun filling in words for what the cat was saying he put his face in his hand and decided he really needed to get out of the bureau more.

 

_I wanted to surprise you._

Malik frowned at the empty room.

Whenever the cat wasn't bothering Malik, she was usually sleeping in the chamber where the fountain was, usually sprawled out on the sun warmed stone.

She was not there today.

Where was that stupid cat?

He threw up a hand in exasperation, figured she would show up eventually, then retreated back behind the counter.

He reached for one of the drawers...and stopped short.

One of them was ajar, wide enough that he could easily fit a hand in and he was sure he hadn't been the one to open it.

Cautiously, he pulled it open.

"Mew."

A pair of bright green eyes blinked up at him and Malik stared, then frowned. The cat remains unmoved in the face of a glare that can and has sent grown men running.

"What are you doing in there?" He asked even as he reached in to grab her by the scruff of her neck. She ducked and then butted her head against his hand instead.

 

_There's just something about you..._

As she got older (and it was, according to one of the visiting novices, definitely a she) the cat's grey markings got lighter, making it appear almost white in some lights. Her fur, as far as Malik could tell, is white closer to her skin and darkens into silver at the tips. Malik thought it made her look like she was dusty at times.

One of the younger assassins that came in once told Malik it looked like her fur shimmered when the light hit her a certain way.

That was another thing, many of the novices and journeymen that came to his bureau seemed to take a liking to her and he's seen more than one of them sneaking her treats.

He wasn't entirely sure what to do about that.

(She was going to get fat at this rate. Fat and spoiled.)

Then there was the day when he caught an assassin, as full assassin, talking to the cat.

His back was to Malik who stood in the doorway so he didn't noticed the Dai there, and Malik couldn't see what he was doing exactly, only that he was hunched over and working on something.

"There." The man said and Malik recognized the voice as a journeyman he had recommended for promotion not two weeks ago. He sat back on his heels and sounded entirely pleased with himself. "Now you look like a proper assassin."

Malik wondered briefly if he hadn't been too hasty in his recommendation, before clearing his throat. The man practically jumped.

"D-dai!"

Malik was not staring at the man though, but at the cat who had...a thin strip of red cloth tied to her neck.

The newly promoted assassin had the grace to look embarrassed, but the cat only sauntered up to him to show off her new look.

She always did that: ignoring whoever was pampering her in favour of him.

Later that night, as Malik watched her sleep, curled up against his left side (she was getting too big to sleep on his shoulder). The red cloth was still tied about her neck as she had slipped away any time he attempted to remove it.

He rememebered the way the sun hit her fur, making it appear more white than grey and the red tied around her neck and he absentmindedly scratched behind her ear.

She purred.

 

_I like high places too, you know._

Malik's starting to wonder if he really did pick up an assassin cat.

She just climbed everything from the counter to the book shelves to _visiting assassins_ in the bureau. There are a few places Malik isn't even entirely sure how she made it up to. He just always found her standing on some high perch, like a lioness surveying her kingdom.

Her favourite perch though, seems to be Malik seeing how, whenever he returned to the bureau she'd jump off wherever she'd been standing before and jump onto his shoulders (and she could _jump_ , he had been surprised the first time he saw her do it), with her front paws balanced almost delicately on his left.

It was just as well that she was a slender cat and he was broad shouldered, since that meant she fit almost perfectly there.

 

_Can I belong to you?_

A few of the visiting assassins had asked if the cat had a name. Malik tended to respond by giving them a blank look before reminding them that instead of wasting his time with useless questions they should just get on with their missions.

Malik was eating dinner when a pair of bright green eyes stared at him from over the table. They disappeared again when Malik placed whatever he was eating down before reclining back on the pillows. Not long after, the cat crawled out from under the table and perched herself in his lap, with her front paws braced on his chest. Her wet nose bumped against the underside of his chin.

Malik didn't bring a hand up to steady her. She had good enough balanced. Besides, despite how affectionate she could be, she didn't like being held and tended to squirm and run when anyone tried to do it.

As if satisfied, she dropped on all fours again and, leaving Malik's lap, settled herself comfortably by his side.

He ran a hand over her short fur and his fingers trailed over the strip of red cloth tied about her neck. He hooked a finger under it, rubbing the fabric between thumb and forefinger.

"I suppose you'll need a name."

 

_Sometimes, silliness can be a bit endearing._

It is hard to imagine her as the tiny, mud caked kitten she had been. Not when she's grown up to be slender and elegant, with large, bright eyes and ears that stand up giving her an alert air. She was quite a sight.

Well. Most of the time.

Malik watched with something not unlike bemusement as his cat made a fool of herself as she rubbed her face against a piece of crumpled parchment while purring.

On a whim, he'd bought some dried catnip at the market and, finding an outdated map he'd meant to get rid of, he'd crumpled it and sprinkled some on and...well.

She tried to bury her nose in the paper and, instead, accidentally sent it rolling away. It was interesting, if nothing else, watching her attempt to catch it again without getting up from her sprawled position on the ground. She made an undignified, and drawn out sound as she stretched futilely for the ball of paper.

So much for cats being graceful creatures.

 

_Anyone who wants to bully you will have to go through me first._

Altair didn't meet Malik's cat (because it is Malik's even if no one ever says it out loud), until after he spent the night in the bureau. Why that was, he wasn't sure.

All he knows is that when he lay down to rest before his mission, there is suddenly a white and silver cat wandering out of the main room and into the area he was in.

He watched it approach with a frown, but didn't stop it from climbing onto his chest.

...why was there a strip of red cloth tied around its neck?

Altair only had a half moment to wonder that before the cat reached out and slapped him across the face with her claws retracted.

To say he hadn't expected it was an understatement.

Then the cat immediately darted away, quick as a flash and disappeared back into the bureau.

Malik's voice drifted from beyond the doorway, hushed as if talking to someone quietly.

"What are you looking so pleased about?"

 

_Thank you. I love you._

A dead rat was dropped on his counter.

Malik stared at it then, at the culprit, who was looking very pleased with herself. She trotted over, stepping over his map to bump her head against his hand and let out a few 'mew's as if she were saying, 'praise me. I hunted this rat! It's for you. Praise me.'

"Hala." Malik sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "What am I going to do with you?"

 

END


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